


Christmas Drabble/Ficbit Gifts

by Featherhead



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X, Star Ocean: The Last Hope, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, WHY DO I GIVE MYSELF FEELS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13112622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherhead/pseuds/Featherhead
Summary: So, I decided to write some drabbles for some friends for Christmas.





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KY Lowell (TachyonStar)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/gifts), [lettucelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettucelove/gifts), [Nattycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nattycat/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After everything, Faize comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For KY Lowell

Faize isn't certain how long he drifts before his Sol finds him. He's not even certain his Sol really _has_ found him, or if it's merely some hallucination.  
  
It's not a death-dream, at least. He hurts too much to be dead.  
  
Still, hallucination or not, he's more than grateful to sink back in the pilot's chair, one arm clamped tightly about his midsection and the injuries there. He's tired, so very tired, and the pain that wracks him is spiritual, as well as physical. He's caused so much pain, to himself and others, because he was such a blind fool.  
  
Despite the pain and guilt, however, there's only one thing he wants.  
  
"Take me home, my friend," he murmurs, sinking into darkness almost before he finishes speaking.  
  
The Sol hums around him, as if indecisive, confused by the command.  
  
Where is 'home'? Eldar is no more.  
  
Astrogation charts are brought up, star systems rapidly flipped through. There are any number of Eldarian colonies scattered around the universe.  
  
The ship pauses on a particular star system, almost seeming to consider it, before plotting a course, engines roaring to life to send them on their way.  
  
Faize fades in and out throughout the journey, caught in a half-dream of delirium. His mind is caught up in memories, of battles he's been in, of battles he's seen. Faces of those he's known or met, their voices, the empty husks of Grigori whispers, all blend together in a maelstrom that echoes around him.  
  
It's so confusing that he sometimes forgets whether he's Faize again, or still Satanail, or someone else altogether, or no one at all.  
  
_I want to go home._  
  
Just as he's about to be swallowed by despair of ever finding himself again, a familiar face floats to the fore of his mind, silencing the growing chaos.  
  
Faize isn't certain how long the journey is. He's not even certain he's actually on the journey, or merely dreaming it.  
  
Maybe he truly is dead, and this is some cruel afterlife torment. He deserves it, he supposes, after what he's done.  
  
What he's nearly done.  
  
Visions of faces float about him, silent as they stare at him. He can see the faces of his fellow Eldarians- Supreme Commander Gaghan, Kaye, the other scientist and researchers he's known, even Arumat. He sees the faces of the Calnus' crew- Edge, Reimi, Lymle, Myruia, Meracle, Serah, Bacchus. He sees Crowe, too, and his Earthling crew. He sees Sir Lias and Lady Eleyna, the people he met on Aeos, the people he met on other planets.  
  
All of them staring, silent, as he cries out to them for forgiveness.  
  
But he gets no answer, the visions fading as he reaches to touch them, and he cries for a different reason now as the darkness closes in around him again. The last thing he sees before unconscious claims him is Edge's face, floating in front of him as he last remembered seeing him, before fading as well.  
  
Faize isn't certain how long he was unconscious. But he's certain he was unconscious, because he wakes to chaos.  
  
Unfamiliar faces are leaning over him, unfamiliar voices echoing in his ears, too rapid and overlapping for him to pick out even one word being said. His translator is overwhelmed as well, offering him only gibberish that makes no sense.  
  
Suddenly Edge is there, hovering over him, calling his name, and Faize just stares a moment, uncertain if this is real or not.  
  
He lifts a hand, almost surprised when Edge doesn't fade this time, when he feels a warm, solid human cheek under his palm.  
  
He feels his mouth in a smile, eyes watering as he watches Edge's hand come up to cover his own.  
  
"I'm home..."  
  
Edge smiles, and Faize thinks it's the most wonderful thing he's ever seen.  
  
_I'm finally home_.


	2. Peace on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedar, Dynamo, and Spider celebrate the holidays in their own unique way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Nattycat

"Don't you dare throw that snowba-"  
  
_WHUMP!_  
  
" _Fuckdammit!_ You're _dead_ , you sonuva- c'mere!"  
  
Dynamo cackled as he fled Spider's furious charge, snow spraying everywhere.  
  
Cedar watched the pair scramble through the drifts after each other, then he sighed softly and shook his head, tugging his coat tighter around himself. He didn't even have to look when he heard the mercenary's sputtery howl to know Spider had tackled him and shoved his face in a drift.  
  
The sniper yelped as a snowball impacted the back of his head, and he whirled with a scowl in time to see Spider bolting the other way.  
  
It appeared that despite Spider's rather vociferous complaints about the cold and snow, not even he could resist the lure of an easy target.  
  
Eyes narrowed, Cedar raced after the fleeing bounty hunter, pelting him with snow as fast as he could scoop it up. It was no time at all before Dynamo joined in, pelting both of them with snowballs, leading to a free for all snow battle, alliances forming and dissolving as fast as one could blink.  
  
Their shouts and laughter filled the air amid the rapid thuds of snowballs hitting their marks, all three Reploids grinning before long.  
  
By the time they grew bored of the activity, each was faintly steaming in the cold from their exertions. But Dynamo clearly wasn't ready to leave off playing in the snow just yet, and Spider and Cedar huddled together as they watched the mercenary run back and forth, making flailing snow angels here, building half a snowman there.  
  
Eventually they decided to drag him back inside, whether he was ready to go or not. Thankfully the mercenary didn't protest, particularly when Spider promised him hot cocoa with a mountain of mini marshmallows.  
  
On returning to Spider's condo and blessed heat, the three friends curled up together on the couch, with a thick blanket and cups of hot cocoa, to watch the snow swirl outside the panoramic windows. Christmas carols played quietly on the sound system in the background, all the lights off save the fiber optic stars studding the ceiling and floor, and the multicolored lights on the tree in the corner.  
  
It was a peaceful scene...for all of five minutes.  
  
"...you're hogging the blanket, Ced."  
  
"I am not, you overgrown lightning rod."  
  
"Don't start, children."  
  
" _Children?!_ We're both older than you, you sequined cowboy!"  
  
"...what'd you just call me, derploid?"  
  
"You heard me, you reject from a spaghetti western!"  
  
"Why you-!"  
  
Cedar yelped as Spider lunged across him to reach Dynamo, causing all three of them to crash to the floor in a cursing tangle of limbs and blanket.  
  
'Peace on Earth,' indeed.


	3. Star Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drift struggles with a gift for Perceptor that will hopefully mend some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For omgmybffmegatron

If there was one thing Drift had liked about the humans and their weird customs, it was their Christmas thing. While he'd never understood all the intricacies of the holiday, he'd at least understood the part about giving presents to the ones you cared about.  
  
Most of the mechs on Drift's list had been easy enough to figure out gifts for.  
  
A detailing kit for Rodimus- the kind that was tough enough to mostly stand up to the hot rod's antics. 'Mostly' only because Drift doubted there was _anything_ that could stand up to Rodimus' antics, save Rodimus himself.  
  
A bottle of vintage high-grade for Ratchet- Drift had somehow won it off Topspin in a drinking game. Though the swordsmech wasn't the type to fear much, he'd been more than a little dubious about trying the liquid that flashed and shimmered ominously in its bottle. The warning to never let it come into contact with even a micron of water had sealed the deal, and the bottle had stayed sealed in all the time Drift had had it. He figured Ratchet would get a kick out of it. Or blow up the medbay. Or something.  
  
A hard-copy of the Tyrest Accord for Ultra Magnus, supposedly handwritten by Tyrest himself- Drift wasn't sure about the veracity of that claim, but it had been expensive enough. He hoped Magnus would appreciate the gift, but Drift expected he'd find something to complain about and blame Drift for. Still...it was the thought that counted, right?  
  
A new model ship kit for Rung- Drift had made discreet checks under the guise of wanting to personally retrieve Rung's reports to be sure he didn't have this one. The swordsmech was pretty sure Rung would like it, since it was a Metrotitan model and could therefore transform.  
  
He'd even managed to get a few gifts for some of the more prominent members of the crew. (Not even he was ambitious enough to try giving gifts to _all two hundred_ members of the crew.)  
  
Swerve was sure to enjoy the new bar glasses to replace the ones broken by the crew during drunken antics. Skids might not get the subtle joke, but he'd definitely get a lot of use out of his new utility belt. Blaster would flip over the music from New Crystal City that Drift had pulled from his memories. Tailgate was bound to get a kick out of the giant squeaky hammer he'd find on his berth. (Cyclonus would, too, Drift knew, but the stoic mech's reasons would be different from Tailgate's.) Sunstreaker _might_ enjoy the expensive wax, but Bob would absolutely love the gelled energon treats. Brainstorm probably wouldn't appreciate the fire extinguisher, but he'd certainly get a lot of use out of it. Chromedome and Rewind would enjoy the Mystery Science Theater shows Drift had managed to acquire. And Whirl was going to sulk at the paintball gun for five minutes before he was running through the halls shooting everyone he could. (The Jayne hat would be the glaze on the oilcake for the crazy 'copter.)  
  
Which...left only Perceptor.  
  
What in Primus' name could Drift get for him that wouldn't be ridiculously trite or horribly inappropriate? Especially considering the bad note they'd parted ways on when Drift had followed Rodimus to Earth, and Perceptor had stayed with the Wreckers.  
  
Drift might not be the most book-smart of mechs, but he was smart enough to know not to try getting anything science-y. (And he was definitely smart enough _not_ to ask Brainstorm for suggestions.) He'd botch it up horribly somehow, he just knew it.  
  
And gifts of candy- even Perceptor's favorite kind- were right out. The last time he'd tried, shortly after the Lost Light's lift-off, Perceptor had given him the cold sniper stare he'd become famous for, and Drift hadn't dared try it again. It had probably been the timing or something, considering Brainstorm had just done something stupid, but...yeah. No candy this time.  
  
The swordsmech was left wracking his brain for ideas, and he tried to ignore the small voice that sounded too much like Deadlock mocking him for finding the task so difficult now, when it had been so easy before he'd left the Wreckers.  
  
It had to be something _special_ , something that could bridge the divide that had grown between them since their parting. But _what_? They didn't really have anything...cutesy or whatever that they'd done together. Not like Chromedome and Rewind had their playful poke-fights. Or Topspin and Twin Twist with their forehead touches. Or even Cyclonus and Tailgate, with Tailgate being enraptured by Cyclonus' singing when they were alone.  
  
Drift privately thought that last one was the most adorable, once he'd gotten over his alarm the first time he'd heard Cyclonus singing. Relationship goals, you know? Not that...you know...either Drift or Perceptor _would_ try singing to one another, even if either of them _could_ sing. Which they couldn't.  
  
Wait. _Singing_.  
  
Drift rested a hand on his chestplate, feeling the thrum of his own spark beneath it, and remembered something Perceptor had once said, when the sniper had been in an oddly poetic mood.  
  
Something about sparks and stars, and the songs of the universe.  
  
The swordsmech slowly smiled, then rushed off to find Blaster and Ratchet. Not necessarily in that order, or at the same time.  


* * *

When Perceptor entered the lab for his shift, he stared loudly for a long moment at the audio player on his work table, before cautiously approaching. He examined it from every angle that he could without touching it, suspecting it to be a trick of some sort. Likely a recording of Brainstorm being an idiot braggart. _Again_.  
  
But the only clue was a small tag, with shaky handwriting he didn't recognize, saying simply "Voices of the System."  
  
He frowned at the player, expression dubious, before he finally activated it.  
  
It...wasn't Brainstorm's voice that rose from the speakers. It really wasn't a voice at all. Not in the conventional sense.  
  
Perceptor's optics widened as the strangely beautiful tones, whistles, hums, and wails of space bodies filled the air, and a part of his mind absently catalogued the various sounds. The throbbing whistle of the planet Earth, the wail of Saturn, the bass throb of Earth's sun, Jupiter's low moan, the high whistle of Neptune, the haunting tones of Uranus and its rings.  
  
All blended together in the most beautiful, most perfect music Perceptor had ever heard as a scientist.  
  
And woven through it, subtle and quiet but still very much _there_ , was the resonant cyclic hum of a star...or a spark.  
  
Perceptor knew _that_ particular 'voice' all too well, having been lulled into recharge time and time again by its unique thrum under his audial.  
  
He turned when he heard the lab's door open, seeing Drift standing uncertainly just beyond the threshold. He just looked at the swordsmech wordlessly, watching him shift and fidget, one hand raised to rub the back of his neck.  
  
And there- the smile.  
  
Not the bright, false one Drift had taken to wearing with his new persona. But the shy, unpracticed one that haunted the scientist's memories.  
  
Perceptor was moving before he realized, long strides swiftly closing the distance between them, and he caught the swordsmech's face with both hands, pressing a kiss to startled lips which quickly melted beneath his own, as the music of the universe and Drift's own star-spark-song wove around them.


End file.
